


The Library

by hesychasm (Jintian)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-06
Updated: 2004-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintian/pseuds/hesychasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obligatory seventh-year study break fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Library

  
"You're breaking curfew," Ron said.

Hermione looked up from her books and papers, quill hovering above a scroll already black with her tiny, precise handwriting. "Hmm?" she said. Her eyes were slightly unfocused and she had a smudge of ink on her left cheekbone.

"It's two minutes to midnight," Harry said from beside Ron. He gestured at the rest of the library, dark and hushed around the pool of light at her table. "No way you'll get back to Gryffindor Tower on time." Harry grinned. "We'll have to take points."

Hermione blinked. "But -- you're not a prefect, Harry," she said.

"Honorary," Ron explained. He reached across the table, plucked the quill from Hermione's fingers, and deposited it into her inkbottle. "I can't take care of Head Boy duties by myself, you know, what with the Head Girl hiding in here for hours and hours."

"I haven't been here that long!"

"You left for the library after dinner. Six hours ago."

Hermione blinked again and shook her head. "You know I've got to revise. NEWTs are in less than a month!"

Harry chuckled. "You've been ready for your NEWTs since before you ever set foot inside the castle," he said. "You are _not_ going to do this every night until then."

"Look, I haven't got time to mess about," Hermione said. "I've too much to do -- it's all well and good for you two to skive off for Quidditch or whatever, but I can't just --"

Harry glanced at Ron and nodded. Together, they stepped around the table and grasped Hermione gently by the arms. "Just shut it," Ron said, smiling down at her. "You're always going on like it's the end of the world or something."

"I do not --"

He pushed his mouth against hers, silencing her squawk with a kiss. Her lips, slightly open already, parted further and he caught a quick taste of her tongue behind her teeth. Her lips were somewhat chapped -- he knew she must have been biting them while she studied. It was one of Hermione's more fascinating nervous habits.

"Ron!" she said as she pulled away. There was a blush in her cheeks, beneath the ink smudge. "I mean, _really_."

"Really what?" he teased. "Really you're right, Ron? Really I should quit being such a bore and come out and play?"

"Not bloody likely." But she was smiling, her eyes darkening in a way that thinned the air in his lungs and sent a rush of blood to his cock. Behind her, Harry peeked around the wild frizz of her hair, nuzzling her neck with his lips. "And you..." Hermione said, voice deepening in pleasure as she leaned back into his arms. "You, Harry, are the worst honorary prefect ever."

"Why's that?" Harry said. He winked at Ron.

"Because you know Madam Pince doesn't allow snogging in the library."

Harry kissed her, open-mouthed, between her jaw and her ear. "I guess we're all going to lose a lot of points, then."

Ron edged up closer, holding her hips with his hands. "Actually, Madam Pince isn't here. We checked the Map. She's off to bed already, like you ought to be." He leaned down and licked the other side of her neck. She smelled like a warm blossom of flowers here, the fragrant strands of her hair caressing his face. He could smell Harry, too, fresh from his post-practice shower. The mingled scents went straight to his hardening erection, which he pressed into the cradle of Hermione's hips.

"Feel that?" Ron whispered. "We _miss_ you when you disappear."

"Yeah," Harry said. "We can't take care of everything by _ourselves_."

"Think you're both clever, do you?" Hermione breathed. "Think I'm going to just drop everything to -- _oh_."

Ron lifted his head and saw that Harry was kissing her collarbone, tongue darting out to lick the base of her throat. Hermione was incredibly sensitive there. He and Harry had spent many a distracted hour in History of Magic, sitting on either side of her and tickling her with their quills.

Not to be outdone, Ron slid his hands up from her hips to the firm curves of her breasts. Her jumper lay forgotten on the back of her chair. She was wearing just a standard-issue tight cotton button-down, the thin white material doing nothing to hide the outline of her brassiere and her stiffened nipples. He flicked his thumbs over them, making her arch in response.

"Mmm," Harry grunted. He brought his own hand down, covering Ron's, molding both of their hands around her right breast.

"We shouldn't --" Hermione gasped. "We're in the _library_ \--"

Ignoring her, Ron bent his head and licked her other breast through her shirt. The heavy weight of her against his mouth, familiar but still somehow thrillingly foreign, not like Harry's smooth planes and angles, so like Ron's own -- God, he still thanked the day they'd woken up and noticed the difference. He couldn't imagine how they'd ever been so blind.

"Anyway," Harry was saying. He'd turned her head to kiss her on the lips, over her shoulder. "Isn't the library your favorite place in the entire castle?"

"Yeah. Haven't you ever --" Ron knelt and pushed her shirt up and out of her waistband, exposing a few tantalizing inches of abdomen, "-- thought about doing this here?"

"Of course not!" But she shivered as Harry kissed her again, as Ron inhaled the delicious sweet skin of her belly. "I mean, anyone could walk in -- Filch! A professor!"

Harry pulled away from her. Ron could see the tent in his trousers, knew Harry must be as hard as himself. He licked his lips. Had they really just been in the Quidditch showering rooms a couple of hours ago? Amazing his knees weren't hurting now, given how long he'd been kneeling naked on those tiles.

From his pocket Harry drew out the Marauders' Map and his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered. As the outlines of the castle began to appear, he spread it on top of Hermione's books and papers. "There," he said. "Just keep an eye on this if you're worried." And with that, he stepped back behind Hermione and slid his hands up beneath the untucked tails of her shirt.

"Oh, dear," she breathed. Her eyes fluttered closed, the Map forgotten.

"You have thought about it, haven't you?" Ron grinned wickedly, pulling the waistband of her skirt down so he could tongue her hip.

"I know I have," Harry whispered.

Ron's heart was beating like the Hogwarts Express. For all the safety of the Map and the apparent intimacy of the lit space around them, it was still thrillingly dangerous to be doing this here. He felt like the books were watching them from the shelves, waiting to pounce from the shadows and drag them away for detention.

Of course, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. And he'd really, _really_ missed Hermione.

He grasped the hem of her skirt and pushed it above her hips. "Oh!" she cried, then "oh!" again as he kissed her through her knickers, his tongue flicking out to lick between her thighs.

"Bloody hell, Ron," Harry said. His hands were still caressing her breasts inside her shirt, his strong forearms framing her smooth naked torso. "That looks amazing."

"She tastes amazing," Ron whispered. "Hermione, you hear that? I can taste you through your knickers."

"Oh, God," she moaned. Ron's cock twitched at the sound. It was still utterly unbelievable to him that he could ever make her so speechless.

"Take them off, Ron," Harry said.

Ron hooked his fingers into the thin material and drew them down her legs -- so lovely they were, God, he loved everything about her -- then tucked them into his pocket. They'd learned, after the last holiday when Seamus had discovered a pair kicked under Harry's bed, not to be careless about such things.

He sat back for a second, admiring the sight of her. He supposed he'd never get tired of this, never get tired of discovering and re-discovering her body, the way her scent changed as he traveled over it, the way she was panting into Harry's mouth now as they kissed -- God, the way she _kissed_. He stood up, knees protesting. "Can I interrupt for a second, mate?" he said to Harry.

Harry grinned and moved back to her neck.

Her mouth was warm and wet from Harry, their tastes mingled just like their smells. Ron licked her lips open, stroked her tongue with his, slid his fingers inside the mad bush of her hair and tilted her head back for better access. He felt Harry's hands, on top of her breasts, crushed against his chest as Ron leaned into her.

She pushed her hips forward, once, again, rubbing her sex along the front of his trousers and whimpering.

Ron didn't need to be told twice. He let her go, knelt on the floor again and pushed his face between her thighs.

"God," Hermione gasped. " _Ron_."

She tasted bloody fucking incredible, hot and slick and slightly tangy. He dipped his fingers inside her cunt, spreading her wetness, stroking her inside that tight heat as he circled her clitoris with his tongue. He grinned, thinking of the day she'd first introduced it to him and Harry, how straightforward and almost businesslike she'd started out, instructing them on what to do, how to do, until they'd started getting the hang of it themselves --

"Harry," she sighed.

He felt Harry next to him. Leaning back a bit, he saw that Harry had moved around to her front. He'd unbuttoned her shirt and fastened his lips on one glorious pink nipple, suckling her while caressing the other with his hand. His eyes were closed, his glasses fogged.

Ron bent back to her, nudging her legs further apart, spreading her open with his fingers. He lapped at the tiny pink bud, faster and faster, sliding a hand around to cup her arse and hold her steady against his mouth.

The noises she was making weren't even words now. He doubted she'd have noticed if the entire faculty had paraded into the library to watch, with Colin Creevey taking pictures. God, but she was gorgeous, her head thrown back, her breasts covered by Harry's hand and Harry's black hair, the long taut stretch of her stomach. He pressed his face harder into her, sweeping his tongue fast and quick over her clitoris, not even bothering to keep a rhythm, not able to anyway because of the way she kept bucking her hips -- so much wilder than Harry, who liked to hold still and only move at the very last -- the way she kept pushing herself on his mouth, kept writhing and moaning as if she might die if she didn't come in the very next second.

And all of it was so unbearably hot that Ron couldn't help but moan as well, deep in his throat, deep into _her_ , and in the midst of it he felt her shiver and heard her cry out, "Ohgodohgodoh _god_ ," moving her hips wildly as she came, quite likely the fucking sexiest thing the library had ever seen.

He knelt, pressing his face into the silken skin of her thigh as he tried to catch his breath. He could hear both Hermione and Harry panting above him, and after a moment her hand joined with Harry's in his hair.

"Mmm, thank you," she whispered.

"Told you you should come out and play," Harry said. His voice was strained, and Ron knew exactly why. His own cock still felt hard enough to fuck through a wall.

"I suppose I ought to take care of _you_ now," Hermione said. She drew Ron up -- Merlin's beard, his legs were shaky -- and kissed him briefly, her smile languid and content. "That's really what you were both after all along, right?"

"It's not _all_ \--" Ron started.

"What do you think we --" Harry said.

She shut them both up by pushing them against a bookcase, her small ink-stained hands firm on their chests. "Hold still and be quiet," she said, and taking up her wand, she muttered a charm beneath her breath.

Immediately the hard shelves and books felt like the softest of down pillows against their backs. "Brilliant." Ron grinned. "You are so the cleverest witch --"

His words cut off with a gasp as she flicked open his trousers -- and Harry's at the same time, he saw -- and slid her hand inside to encircle his cock. "I said hush," Hermione said.

Ron tried to be quiet, tried to keep his cries unvoiced, but after just a few moments Harry couldn't help himself. He uttered a pained groan, his shoulder pressed against Ron's. "Fuck," Harry said. "Oh, fuck, Hermione."

Her hand was hot and strong. _She_ hadn't needed to be told how to touch them, how to give them pleasure. They supposed they had Viktor Krum to thank for that, though neither of them liked to dwell on the thought. But God, she was good, even her left hand, her non-dominant hand, stroking Ron's cock like she knew some special brand of sex magic, and holy fuck, now that he thought about it, she probably _did_ know something, this _was_ Hermione of the infinite number of brain cells, after all. The thought of her unleashing all of that knowledge on them someday, someday in the future when they didn't have to sneak around the school after hours, always looking over their shoulders, made Ron's arousal leap straight for the sky.

She leaned in and kissed him deeply, then kissed Harry. "Think you're clever, do you?" she said. "So very clever, the both of you."

Ron pushed his shoulders back against the books, pushed his hips forward into her wondrous hand. It felt like the books were buoying him up with their softness at the same time he was sinking into them, like they were holding him up specifically for this mind-blowing pleasure, and for the first time he thought maybe he understood why she loved books so much, why she insisted on spending so bloody much time in the library.

"Hermione, _please_ ," he moaned. "Harder. Harder."

She responded at once, gripping him tightly, flexing, her hand picking up speed, and it was so hot, the heat of her pressing against him and Harry as she stroked, as she licked his ear, her hot breath caressing his neck, her hair tickling him as she turned her head to do the same to Harry. "Like that?" she said, her voice breathy. "I know you both like that."

Fucking _hell_ , he liked it. He liked it so much he was going to come after a measly two minutes getting wanked by her clever hand, yes, by God, she was so much cleverer than he and Harry put together, no question about it, this was exactly why they had missed her so much. Ron gritted his teeth, leaned into Harry and the books and thrust into her hand as she coaxed the orgasm out of him, riding the crest up and up and up, his balls tightening and his body crashing through like a Bludger striking flesh.

Beside him, Harry was thrashing about, his breath harsh and choppy, and Ron knew he was close. "Come on, mate," he turned and whispered into Harry's ear. "Ten points to Gryffindor, come on, come on."

"Fuck!" Harry gasped, and his body bowed, his head tilting forward as he came.

Hermione drew her hands out of their trousers and wiped them daintily on her skirt. "All right?" she said. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Fantastic," Ron said. When he thought he could stand without falling, he peeled himself off of the bookshelves and wrapped her and Harry in a hug. "Absolutely bloody fantastic."

"Yeah," Harry said, still slightly out of breath. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

Hermione muffled her laughter in their shirts.


End file.
